Elladan's Grand Plan
by The Yuggster
Summary: Elladan has a Plan, a Grand Plan for ridding the palace of Belegdur’s attitude. Will his plan succeed, or will he accidentally unleash a force more terrible, or more cheerful, than Middle Earth has ever seen? On hiatus.
1. Sense and Senselessness

Title: Elladan's Grand Plan

Author: Yuggster

Rating: K+ (comic violence)

Summary: Elladan has a Plan, a Grand Plan for ridding the palace of Belegdur's attitude. Will his plan succeed, or will he accidentally unleash a force more terrible (or more cheerful) than Middle-Earth has ever seen?

Disclaimer: I do not own Elladan or the five elves who guest-star in this episode. I do, however, own Belegdur...but you wouldn't want him, would you?

Note: Belegdur is an OC who made his debut in _Beginnings_. It's certainly not necessary that you read that story first, but it might help.

_AN: This is just an insane plotbunny that's been racing around my head for a while now, courtesy of a comment Chld-of-Sorrow made for _Beginnings_. And, of course, my sick and twisted mind ran with it. Also partly inspired by an episode of_ Third Rock_--the one where they kept hitting Harry over the head with a frying pan. Watch out, the story goes a little fast._

* * *

Episode I: Sense and Senselessness

Elladan crouched behind the corner of the cross-corridor, club in hand. He was waiting for his prey: Prince Belegdur.

The middle of the three princes of Mirkwood was well-known for many things...such as his foul temper and tendency to verbally assault the youngest prince of the family, Legolas—who just happened to be one of Elladan's closest friends. And, as many elves who had at one point or another teased Elrohir, Estel, or Legolas may attest; one does not mistreat one of Elladan's friends without receiving just recompense.

So Elladan had a Plan...a Grand Plan to knock some sense into Belegdur's overly-thick head.

Granted, clubbing the stuck-up prince probably wouldn't accomplish much, and when Belegdur regained consciousness he would likely be just as much of a pain as he was before but it would certainly make Elladan feel better.

And thus Elladan was lying in wait—well, hiding in wait—to put his plan into action.

He heard Belegdur coming. It was very easy to hear Thranduil's third-born child approach because all conversation around him abruptly ceased as though the other elves were afraid of becoming targets for his barbarous tongue should they be caught conversing idly. Indeed, the birds of the forest were known to fall silent in Belegdur's presence because, as rumors had it, he had once scolded them for singing merrily while he himself was in a foul mood.

Elladan could practically hear Belegdur's grumpy thoughts as he rounded the corner. The son of Elrond swung his club with most of his might—not all of his might as he didn't want to decapitate the prince—and struck the royal, self-absored pain in the neck right on the side of the head.

Belegdur blinked, stumbling back. "What did you do that for?" he asked, a puzzled and slightly hurt look on his face.

The dark-haired elf could only stare. Hadn't he just hit the prince with most of his might? Why was the prince still speaking to him instead of collapsed unconscious on the floor? Had the blow to the head actually made Belegdur a civil elf?

"I mean, I know I don't like to make toys like the rest of the elves, but couldn't you just let me be a dentist instead of striking me?"

Now Elladan was completely lost. "What?" he managed to say, intelligently.

"Didn't you come all the way down here to tell me I had to get back to work making toys?" Belegdur asked.

"What do you mean?" Elladan nearly shouted, exasperated. "Who are you?"

Belegdur frowned in puzzlement. "Why, I'm Herbie. Oh, please don't send me back to the Island of Misfit Toys!"

Elladan shook his head in bewilderment. Then, not knowing anything else to do, he clouted the older elf with the club yet again, and managed to knock Belegdur to the ground.

Belegdur shook his head and squinted at Elladan. "Wow!" he shouted, jumping to his feet and grabbing the twin elf in an embrace, spinning him around. "I'm not adopted after all! I knew I belonged here!"

Elladan shrieked in a manner vaguely reminiscent of a twelve-year-old human female. "Put me down, you idiot!" he shouted.

The blonde elf immediately complied, looking quite subdued. "I'm sorry, I was just so happy to see another elf my size I got a little carried away. I've been the biggest elf here for so long...I was sure Papa had made a mistake and now I've got proof!"

The younger elf could only fume, unable to counter Belegdur's statement. "What are you talking about?" he asked, wondering why his Grand Plan was failing so miserably. Shouldn't Belegdur be sensible—or at least unconscious—by now?

"Oh, I didn't introduce myself," Belegdur grinned, sticking his hand out. "I'm Buddy, and I'm so glad you're here! Now that I'm not the only really tall elf here I'm sure they'll let me stay!"

Elladan ignored the proffered hand and groaned. It seemed instead of becoming a more sensible, kinder—or at least unconscious—elf, Belegdur was having a crisis of identity. So Elladan did the only thing he could think of—he clubbed Belegdur over the head again.

The prince collapsed against the wall with a groan. Concerned that he might have caused some damage this time—and wondering why, after three such hits, Belegdur had yet to black out—Elladan reached out a hand to steady the elf. "Belegdur?" he asked.

Belegdur gave him a strange look. "You're not drunk on Eggnog again, are you?"

Elladan blinked. "What?" he asked, wondering what Eggnog was. Perhaps some vintage of the king's wine?

"Bernard," Belegdur said.

"What?" Elladan asked again, beginning to feel slightly stupid for being so confused.

"My name is Bernard. You must be drunk. What did you call me? Bereg-door?"

"Um...yes?" the twin shook his head. "What is going on?" he asked no one in particular.

"Shouldn't you be in the factory?" Belegdur—that is, Bernard—asked.

"Factory?"

"Yes, it's nearly time for Claus to return so we need to be sure we're on schedule. He was a little tense last year, so it would be nice if things went smoothly for him now."

"Claus?"

Belegdur rolled his eyes. "Santa Claus? Big jolly guy in a red suit—you can't miss him."

This is becoming a habit, Elladan thought, as he clouted Belegdur again.

The blonde elf fell to the ground, whimpering. "Thank you, kind master," he whimpered, groveling and pawing near Elladan's feet.

Elladan reflexively took a step away. "Thank me for what?"

Belegdur looked up, a pitiful expression in his brown eyes. "Thank you for punishing Dobby, Sir. Dobby deserved it."

"Dobby?"

"Yes, Sir. Dobby the House Elf."

This was getting nowhere. "House Elf?"

"If you please, Sir, Dobby must return to his family before he ruins his master's dinner."

Elladan felt a little sorry for the groveling elf—though it was quite the nice change from Belegdur's normal attitude. "Wait, er, Dobby. I have to, um, hit you one more time?" Drat, that wasn't going to work.

Belegdur looked up with an even more pitiful expression. "Thank you, Sir," he whimpered, cowering down.

Feeling like the biggest bully ever, but knowing that there would indeed be trouble in Mirkwood if one of her princes began crawling around thanking those who stepped on him and trying to cook dinner, Elladan again brought the club across Belegdur's skull.

The blonde elf collapsed, and Elladan was finally feeling guilty for instigating his Grand Plan. Suppose he accidentally caused actual damage or killed the prince?

Suddenly, Belegdur sprang up with a giggle.

"Belegdur?" Elladan asked.

The prince just giggled again, and started skipping about the hall, singing something about a "Loverly Spring" at the top of his lungs.

"Hello," Belegdur said with a giggle, interrupting his song at some part about squirrels singing along, or maybe it was the part about spring being the springiest time of the year.

"Hello?"

"I like making new friends," Belegdur commented with a giggle, hugging Elladan tightly. "What's your name?"

"...Elladan?" the twin replied, unable to handle the violent personality swings Belegdur was experiencing.

"Nice to meet you Elladan! I'm The Littlest Elf!"

If he hadn't been so shocked, Elladan would have laughed. Belegdur was certainly not the littlest elf in the palace, though he seemed to think he was. But why was he giggling and singing about chip, chittery chipmunks all in a row?

Elladan was just starting to think this change might be for the better when Belegdur began to sing his little song for the third time. Once it was startling, twice it was funny, but thrice it was getting annoying. Elladan paled at the thought of the prince cavorting about Mirkwood singing this song for the rest of eternity, and for the sake of his own sanity as well as the sanity of every other being in Middle-Earth, he brought up his club and whacked Belegdur once again.

Belegdur collapsed to the ground, and this time he didn't get right back up.

Elladan anxiously bent over the prince. Was Belegdur back to normal?

"What do you think you're doing?" the prince fumed, seeing Elladan's face so close to his own.

Barely managing to repress another shriek, Elladan jumped back and fell into an ungraceful heap on the floor. "Belegdur?" he asked.

The blonde elf glared. "Who were you expecting?"

Herbie, Buddy, Bernard, Dobby, or the Littlest Elf, Elladan thought. "I-I...no one?"

Belegdur glared at Elladan coldly. "Bad enough that you pollute my brother with your savage ways, must you also assault me? I shall inform my father of this and see if _this_ time he agrees to have you, your twin, and that useless human exiled from Mirkwood. Perhaps if you leave us be for a century Legolas can finally mature into the prince he ought to be. It is a shame, really, when I think how his choice of friends debases his position, and how he constantly—"

The prince never finished his tirade, as Elladan decided to give his Grand Plan one more shot.

This time he finally succeeded in knocking some sense into the prince.

That is, he succeeded in knocking Belegdur unconscious.

And, all things considered, wasn't that the same thing?_

* * *

_

_Reviews? Flames? Tar and Feathers?_

* * *

(Herbie is from _Rudolph_, Buddy is Will Ferrell's character in _Elf_, Bernard was the head elf in _The Santa Clause_, Dobby is from the Harry Potter series (specifically _Chamber of Secrets_), and The Littlest Elf is from the opening scene of _A Series of Unfortunate Events._ ) 

The song _Loverly Spring_ is featured on the soundtrack to _A Series of Unfortunate Events. _Really.

_PS: If anyone's interested in reading more I'll be happy to add other "episodes" as they're written. _


	2. The Demon Chicken

_AN: This is kinda short, but it was sort of a spur-of-the-moment thing._

_This episode was partially inspired by the whole "tar-and-feathers" thing I tend to say at the end of my stories/chapters and by LucasArts'_ The Curse of Monkey Island_. Story contains some references to that game._

_Disclaimer: I own none of this except Belegdur (of course...the grumpy one would be mine). The rest belongs to Tolkien except El Pollo Diablo, which belongs to LucasArts._

_(I'm still working on_ Beginnings_, but I'm delayed right now due to a pair of major final projects due this week.)_

_

* * *

_

Episode II: The Demon Chicken

It had been three days since Elladan's ill-fated Grand Plan had gone, well, ill. The only change it had brought about in Belegdur had been that the prince had been whining more than usual and terrorizing the healers with complaints that his head was aching.

No one dared tell him it was because of the seven large lumps someone had thought to plant on his overly-thick skull.

So Elladan had another Plan...another Grand Plan to punish Belegdur for his ill-mannered behavior.

He waited until the prince was in council to set up his plan.

Elladan carefully placed a bucket full to the brim of black, sticky goo he'd managed to swipe from some of the raftmen of Dale over the door to Belegdur's room. He also took a large feather pillow from one of the linen closets and placed it against the wall, in a spot next to the door where he planned to hide.

Then he heard an elf come fuming down the hall, and knew Belegdur was on his way.

He quickly took his hiding spot, holding back a snicker.

He figured it had to be Belegdur because he swore he could hear the plants the king kept in the hall withering from the angry elf's gaze as he went.

Then the door opened, and the elf who was entered yelped as a bucket of tar came tumbling down upon his head, covering him in a sticky black mass. With a war cry Elladan leapt forward and tore open the pillow, covering the tar-covered elf with feathers.

He stood back, admiring his work. Belegdur now looked like a giant chicken with glaring blue eyes.

Only...didn't Belegdur have brown eyes?

Oops.

"What do you think you're doing?" King Thranduil, who had come up to have a word with his third-eldest about not pestering the healers every five minutes for a headache remedy, roared.

Elladan managed a small squeak that sounded something like "eep," but no one could be sure because it was largely inaudible.

Now, the king was usually a wise and just elf who never lost his head except in extreme cases.

Unfortunately, this was one of those extreme cases.

Just as Elladan was about to resign himself to a rather painful death at the king's tar-and-feather-covered hands, he was saved by the most unlikely elf imaginable.

Belegdur.

The prince pushed open the door to his room, muttering about birds singing far too merrily for such a poor excuse for a day and elves wasting their time in idle conversation.

The king was distracted, and whirled about to face his son.

The prince turned a remarkable shade of white.

"Ai!" he shouted. "It's El Pollo Diablo!"

And before either the king or Elladan could say anything to the contrary, Belegdur took off down the hall as though a thousand orcs were on his tail, completely forgetting to stop and yell at Legolas (who just happened to be walking by).

Elladan snickered. At least Belegdur was humiliated, even if his plan hadn't quite worked out.

But, as he tried valiantly to help the king clean off the tar (which comes off with chicken grease, they say), he couldn't help but wonder if nacho cheese would have been easier to use after all.

_

* * *

_

_Normally you know what I'd say here, but there's an epilogue of sorts to this episode that was inspired by a humdinger of a final project I have for an art history class. _

_

* * *

_

Episode II.V: The Anguish and the Rapture

Elladan sneaked into the bathing chamber with a snicker.

Normally he did no such thing, preferring to knock first and announce himself lest he accidentally walk in on someone (like Belegdur) bathing, but this time he didn't want someone (like Belegdur) to know he was entering.

So he sneaked in. In his hands he held a book one of his tutors had once suggested he read to become a bit more cultured; a seven hundred and fifty-eight page biography of a sculptor who had lived centuries before Elladan was even born (which was a long time ago). He had tried to read the book, he really had, but it seemed to him to be useful only as a sleep aide, and after fifteen consecutive days of falling asleep book in hand he gave up.

He had brought it along in case he had any trouble sleeping while visiting Mirkwood, but now it seemed to him that he'd found a much better use for it.

Everyone knew that Prince Belegdur liked to retire in the evenings to bathe and read for an hour or so, claiming it helped him relax after a trying day.

Elladan snorted. It seemed more likely that all those around Belegdur had a much more trying day than he did.

He picked up the book Belegdur had set beside the ornate tub and read the title with a frown. _The Anguish and the Rapture: Biography of Amrod Oronar._

He looked down at the book in his hand. _The Anguish and the Rapture: Biography of Amrod Oronar. _Elladan sighed in defeat.

His greatest plot yet...spoiled by his prey's rather questionable literary taste.

_

* * *

_

_AN: As part of the final project for my class I have to read_ The Agony and the Ecstasy_, a biography about Michelangelo. My reaction to it was much the same as Elladan's, except I haven't fallen asleep yet and might actually finish the book. No offense in the story is meant to anyone who liked the book._

_Amrod Oronar is Michelangelo's full name (Michelangelo Buonarroti) put through a name generator._

_

* * *

Reviews? Flames? Tar and Feathers? _


	3. A Troublesome Vintage

_Disclaimer: You know the drill. All I own is Belegdur. And Aranion and Amondil._

_AN: I have no idea which side is the proper side for a wine glass, so just pretend that the rules of etiquette in this are right if they're not. Also, I don't think this one is as funny as the first or even the second, so please pardon me (I promise I'll try to make the next one better)._

* * *

Episode III: A Troublesome Vintage 

Elladan sighed in frustration as he slapped the book he had been trying to read closed. His twin, Elrohir, and his human brother, Estel, were out enjoying the beautiful day but Elladan was stuck inside looking for something he could use against Belegdur.

So far nothing was forthcoming.

Ever since the tar and feathers incident, Belegdur had been hesitant to show his face around the palace. Elladan had heard rumors that it was because Belegdur had had nightmares of a giant chicken chasing him through the forest when he was young, and spotting the tar-and-feathered king had made him think said chicken was finally coming to get him.

It was Elladan's personal opinion, however, that Belegdur was slightly mad.

The dark-haired elf stretched, frowning for a moment as he remembered why he had been in the library on a day like today, researching odd herbs and roots and their effects. Belegdur had happened to cross paths with his younger brother, Legolas, a few hours ago. Temperamental at the best of times, Belegdur had crossed into the realm of unstable volatility due to his fear of giant chickens and had jumped to the conclusion that Legolas had brought "El Pollo Diablo" into the palace.

And thus the young prince had found himself on the full receiving end of his brother's sharp tongue and rather well-read vocabulary. Elladan still winced when he remembered some of the phrases Belegdur had chosen for this particular tirade. Legolas had taken it rather well, he thought. The young elf had turned a remarkable shade of white, tried to stutter something in his defense, and taken refuge away from his brother's anger in the nearest tree.

And so Elladan was desperately trying to come up with another Grand Plan to do something about Belegdur. So far he had nothing.

He sighed. Perhaps he should go and see if Legolas had finally come out of his tree yet. Or, if he hadn't, maybe he should shake the princeling out of the tree, then drug him and bundle him off for a few hours sleep in hopes that he could convince his friend it was just a nightmare.

Wait a minute...Elladan's eyes lit up with glee. "That's it!" he said aloud, laughing. It was so simple.

Elladan bounced out of the library, whistling. He trotted cheerfully down to the healers and charmed a handful of herbs away from the flattered elf-maid who was stuck changing bedsheets on such a beautiful day. Then, nothing else to do but wait for the opportune moment, he valiantly resisted the urge to skip in glee and made his way outside to catch up with his brothers and see if he couldn't shake a certain elf-prince out of a tree and convince him that the giant chicken incident was all in Belegdur's mind.

It would be a few hours later, at dinner, that Elladan could put his plan into effect.

Dinner in Mirkwood seemed to always be a formal affair, Elladan reflected. Then again, when you were guests of the prince and expected to dine with the king—private family dinner though this was—perhaps formal wear was to be expected.

"Hold on a moment," Elladan said in mock frustration, glancing over at Estel and Elrohir. "I've forgotten something...I'll meet you in the dining room!"

Without waiting for their response (sure that they would insist on coming with him) he slipped out of the room and carefully made his way down the hall to the dining room. He smiled cheerfully when he entered, glad that he had chosen just the right moment. The servants had just finished setting up and were leaving, and none of the family had entered yet.

So he had a few moments. He pulled the herbs out of his pocket and carefully counted down four seats from the king's place. He picked up Belegdur's goblet and crushed the herbs into it, careful to swirl the wine to mix it together.

Yes, this one would work. While not necessarily painful or humiliating, drugging Belegdur into a stupor for the next day or so should buy Elladan enough time to work up a decent plan and put it into motion.

He could hear voices coming down the hall, and quickly moved to stand near his own place at the table.

Legolas and his brothers entered, greeting Elladan cheerfully, and carrying on whatever merry argument they'd been having before arriving.

Elladan held his breath as the rest of the family entered, pleased when Belegdur didn't seem to notice anything amiss. The prince did glare at Legolas, however, though the young elf had grown adept at ignoring his brother's silent attacks.

When Thranduil sat at the table the rest of the elves (and one human) sat as well. Conversations silenced as the crown prince, Aranion, suddenly rose in his seat. "I would like to propose a toast," the elf said. "To family and good friends, and the defeat of the shadow."

Aranion raised the glass that was to the right of his plate and held it high.

Elladan paled. All his lessons in etiquette suddenly came rushing back.

What had his tutor told him, time and time again?

_"The wineglass goes to the right, Elladan. The right! Someday you'll be in a formal setting a regret it if you don't remember this simple rule!"_

He didn't have time to shout out a warning before the elves (and human) around the table all raised their glasses and drank the toast.

Hewas seriously considering disappearing for a century or so as Amondil, Aranion's son and the elf seated to Belegdur's left, suddenly toppled over and passed out, landing facedown in his plate.

Elladan's only consolation was that he hadn't gone with his original plan to poison Belegdur.

* * *

_Reviews? Flames? Tar and Feathers?_


	4. Princess Silmarwen

_AN: I know, I just posted one on Wednesday, but this one was just begging to be written. And yes, I'm fully aware that "halfth" isn't a word. At least, I don't think it is._

* * *

Episode IV: Princess Silmarwen 

To say that Elladan was a bit annoyed would have been an exaggeration. He was more than annoyed—in fact he was bordering on furious.

So far all of his plans—all three and a half of them—had failed. Normally a patient elf, Elladan was beginning to suspect that there was some greater force controlling his actions and that he might never truly succeed.

Nevertheless, he had to try.

After Elladan's last attempt on the prince (which resulted in the king's grandson getting a rather pleasant twenty-four hours of sleep—actually beneficial to him considering he'd just returned from an exhausting campaign), Belegdur had become more paranoid than usual, insisting that there was an assassin loose in the palace that was after him.

That, of course, was true in a way except that Elladan had no intention of killing Belegdur. No, he merely wanted to humiliate the prince and possibly change his way of thinking. Yes, Elladan was convinced that one of his plans would work to show Belegdur how to be a much nicer elf.

And he had made a new Plan...though not so Grand as his first but less likely to fail than his second-and-one-halfth. If he got one thing wrong on this, however, it could result in a disaster that would rock Mirkwood to its very foundation—or at least alienate him from his friend, Legolas, for all of eternity.

For Elladan had heard that another visitor was coming to see the royal family. A visitor most interested in Prince Legolas. A she-elf, the supposed long-lost daughter of Lord Celeborn and Lady Galadriel; Princess Silmarwen.

Bearing in mind the fact that any she-elf who was the daughter of Galadriel would likely be near his father's age and that a marriage alliance between Lothlorien and Mirkwood was likely the farthest thing from Celeborn's mind, Elladan could only assume that this Silmarwen was yet another imposter invading Arda in search of Legolas. Why they were constantly after the youngest prince of Mirkwood was beyond him, though, for it was his experience that Legolas wasn't the least inclined to get married for at least a millennium or two.

Elladan's latest Plan (which should be called Elladan's Diabolical and Utterly Evil Plan) was simple: convince the she-elf that Legolas had brown eyes and introduce her to Belegdur. If he was right in thinking this was an imposter, the result would be that Belegdur would be stuck with an annoying she-elf who he was strangely attracted to, and who would likely be captured by orcs, carried off by spiders, and somehow manage to save the prince from a pack of wargs. If she wasn't an imposter...well, perhaps love was just the thing to temper Belegdur's attitude.

And so Elladan was waiting yet again. He was neither crouched nor hiding behind a door this time, though. He was standing at the gate as a proper representative of the family would—after all, this she-elf was supposedly his aunt and it would be only proper for him to greet her.

At last the delegation from Lothlorien came into sight. The caravan had several dozen golden-haired warriors guarding it, and riding in the exact center was a gloriously beautiful elf-maid, dark hair glinting in the sunlight.

Elladan felt a shiver down his spine, and he was disgusted to find himself attracted to this elf-maid. She was beautiful—enchanting, even. Her hair was dark as a raven's wing, with coppery highlights that danced in the sun. Her eyes a deep, crystal blue that held wisdom, naivete, and a fierce strength.

He snorted. _Someone_ had been studying his sister, Arwen, a bit too much.

"My Lady," he called to the elf-maid as soon as the delegation entered the gates. Then, with a devilish grin, he launched himself at her and knocked her off the horse. "Aunt Silmarwen!"

The elf-maid blustered and struggled to knock Elladan off. "What did you call me?"

"You are the daughter of Celeborn and Galadriel...and so you must be my aunt!" he declared in a victorious tone.

Silmarwen blanched. Obviously, whoever had created this imposter hadn't done too much research into Galadriel's family. "Oh, of course," she said smoothly, rising to her feet without a wrinkle or stain upon her robes. "I have been away for so long...I'm afraid I don't remember you at all."

Elladan frowned outwardly but grinned inwardly. "I'm your nephew, Elladan," he explained. "Where have you been, Aunt Silmarwen?"

The she-elf stopped, her fair face paling further. "Gondor?"

"I see," Elladan nodded. Yep, yet another imposter here to try to get her well-manicured claws in Legolas. Well, if this wasn't killing two spiders with one stone he didn't know what was. He would rid his friend of this particular annoyance, and sick said annoyance on another annoyance. Then, either the two annoyances would cancel each other out and all of Middle-Earth would be destroyed by an explosion or Belegdur would be distracted by this...creature...for the next century or so.

"I understand you're here to see Legolas?" he asked.

"Oh, yes," the she-elf beamed, obviously sensing no deceit in her "nephew". Probably part of that "charming naivete" that was supposed to be so refreshing. "Do you know him?"

"Of course!" Elladan grinned wildly, holding his arm out to the she-elf. "Just come with me, Aunt Silmarwen."

He could hear the elf-maid's teeth grinding as he again called her his aunt. "Mother and Father wish for me to marry Prince Legolas," she said calmly, "but I don't know if I want to."

Elladan caught the predatory gleam in her eye as she said this and grinned again. "Of course not. But I must warn you; some tales of the prince got a few of the facts wrong."

Silmarwen looked at him askance. "What do you mean?"

"Did you know, for instance, that he has brown eyes and not blue?"

The she-elf stopped. "You're lying!" she shouted, a violent temper showing itself.

"Why would I lie to my dear old aunt?" Elladan asked, emphasizing the _old_.

Silmarwen glared at him. "Just introduce me...I don't care what color his eyes are as long as he's Legolas."

Now that the imposter-princess was starting to act more like the spoiled brat Elladan knew she must truly be and less like the perfect elf-maid, he had some qualms about introducing her to Belegdur. Surely he should just be rid of her like all the others...what had Belegdur done to deserve this? Then he remembered the time when Legolas had spilled a drop of wine on his tunic at dinner and Belegdur had ranted for three straight days that the young prince had no manners, and he decided to go through with his plan.

"Here we are," he said, stopping just outside Belegdur's door. "He's going by an alias because an evil assassin is trying to kill him," he added in a moment of inspiration.

Silmarwen's eyes glinted, and Elladan could just see the plot hatching in her mind to either become the assassin and then tragically fall in love, or to nearly die saving the prince. He bit back a snicker. This was going to be hilarious.

"I shall leave you now," he said with a hint of finality. "I wish you the best of luck, Aunt Silmarwen."

The elf-maid waved him away impatiently, obviously working up her "love at first sight" charm for when she knocked on the door.

Elladan went halfway down the corridor and ducked behind a potted plant. He watched Silmarwen straighten her already-impeccable gown and raise one delicate hand to knock on the door.

"My Love!" she shouted when Belegdur came to the door.

Belegdur stared. "MARY-SUE!" he shouted, stabbing at Silmarwen with the dagger he'd kept handy in case the assassin should wander by.

The she-elf shrieked as she was recognized for what she was (though the whole dagger thing was just unnecessary) and disappeared in a flash of green light, leaving behind a sulphurous smell and a column of smoke.

Elladan groaned loudly, falling back to sit on the floor with a thump. He should have known that a character as bitter, angry, and hateful as Belegdur would be immune to the charms of a Mary-Sue.

Oh well. At least he'd managed to keep this one away from Legolas.

_

* * *

Reviews? Flames? Tar and Feathers? _

_No offense was meant to anyone who has ever written a Mary-Sue or a Mary-Sue-like character. This was written in fun, please take it as such._

_I just wanted to take a pulse here: would anyone be interested in more "let's hit Belegdur over the head multiple times and see what hidden personalities he has" stories? 'Cause I've got more of those I could write, along with a lot of other plans. Just let me know if you're interested. _


	5. Prank 626

_AN: I just wanted to say I love this one._

* * *

Episode V: Prank 626 

Elladan was starting to feel a bit discouraged.

So far nothing he had come up with had done anything, and he was beginning to think that maybe he had taken the wrong approach.

No Plan since his first Plan had any effect...maybe violence was the only answer.

He shook his head, peeking down the hall to make sure Elrohir was on his way.

While it was true that hitting Belegdur over the head had been fun, he was concerned he might cause actual damage to the prince and that would not be good for Mirkwood-Rivendell relations. Not that they were exactly the strongest of alliances. Rumor had it that there were some times when the only thing keeping Elrond and Thranduil from severing all communications was their mutual fear of Galadriel. Not that she'd attack them, but that she'd invite them to tea.

Tea with Galadriel was always a frightening event, as Elladan and Elrohir could attest. Elladan shivered involuntarily. While an audience with Galadriel was always unnerving as she could see into one's heart and read one's true intentions, tea was ever-so-much moreso because one was forced to make polite conversation, and Galadriel was infamous for her inability to make small-talk.

Most of the time tea turned into one long awkward silence, and the only escape that would work for either Thranduil or Elrond was to claim that they could not attend because they had planned a diplomatic meeting for that same day.

It usually worked, except on the occasion that Galadriel decided Lothlorien needed to participate in the diplomatic meeting as well, for then they would actually have to hold a meeting rather than gathering in some odd study and drinking through a few barrels of very fine wine.

But none of that mattered, Elladan thought with a shake of his head. What was important now was that Elrohir fulfilled his part in this scheme.

For Elladan, unable to come up with a Plan of his own, had enlisted his brothers' help in "pranking" Belegdur. He had convinced Elrohir and Estel that this was just for fun, and they had readily agreed not knowing he was using it for revenge.

And he had come up with the perfect revenge. If Elrohir could just distract Belegdur...

"Prince Belegdur!" Elrohir called as soon as the prince opened the door. "You have to come quick...it's an emergency!"

Elladan shushed Estel as his human brother began asking if it was working.

"What is it?" Belegdur asked crossly. "I'm very busy."

"It's Legolas," Elrohir said worriedly. "He's trying to pick out something for dinner and doesn't know which tunic suits him best as Prince of Mirkwood."

Even from his position down the hall Elladan could see Belegdur's eyes widen. "I'd best help him, then," he said, pushing past Elrohir and practically sprinting down the hall toward his brother's chambers.

Elladan giggled just slightly as he and Estel rushed forward to meet Elrohir.

"I told you it would work," he told his twin and his human brother.

Elrohir rolled his eyes. "But what will Legolas say when he comes in to find Belegdur pawing through his wardrobe?"

The older twin waved off the concern and pushed open the door to Belegdur quarters. "Here we go...Estel, you brought the bag?"

The human held up a large burlap sack. "Right here."

"Good...ah, here we are!"

Elladan threw open the door to Belegdur's wardrobe. "Elrohir?" he asked, holding a jar of molasses out, which the younger twin took without a word.

Grinning deviously, Elladan began sorting through Belegdur's boots, tossing all the ones made for the left foot in Estel's sack and handing the others to Elrohir. Elrohir then poured a small amount of molasses in each shoe and lined them up in the bottom of the wardrobe, being careful not to leave any empty spaces.

"Come on," Elladan beckoned, glancing around and making sure nothing looked out of place. Legolas' room was only a few doors down, so it was possible that Belegdur would be finished soon and find his way back.

"What are we doing with these?" Estel asked, holding up the sack full of left boots.

"We're going to spread them throughout the palace," Elladan explained with a snigger.

"It will take him forever to find them all," Elrohir commented.

"Aye, and then he'll have to launder all of his other shoes."

Both twins collapsed against the wall in a fit of laughter, while Estel looked on with a confused look on his face. "But wasn't he wearing a pair of shoes already? Why can't he just wear those?"

"Oh, Estel," Elladan sighed, putting an arm around his little brother as they slipped around the corner and out of sight. "Belegdur would never wear the same pair of boots he's worn all day to dinner."

And thus Elladan finally got a small amount of revenge, as a rather satisfying scream of frustration echoed through the palace about an hour before dinner.

It would be decades before anyone would forget The Great Boot Caper.

But Elladan still had other Plans in store for the prince...and his next was his most devious yet.

_

* * *

Reviews? Flames? Tar and Feathers? _

_AN: This was inspired by a quote from _Lilo and Stitch_, where Jumba says Stitch (AKA Experiment 626) would be drawn to large cities to cause havoc, including stealing everyone's left shoe._


	6. A Plan Goes Dangerously Awry

_AN: My original Plan for this chapter isn't working out (tea with Galadriel, as alluded to in the last chapter) because it's somehow taken a life of its own and started becoming its own story (so I might just write it up and post it someday). _

_This one turned into a bit more action than comedy. _

* * *

Episode VI: A Plan Goes Dangerously Awry

"Are you sure this will work?"

Elladan sighed. It was all well and good to let Legolas in on a Plan, seeing as how most of this was for his benefit, but did the prince really have to be such a skeptic?

"It will work if you lure him out here," Elladan said patiently.

Legolas shook his head, tossing another handful of leaves onto the pile. "And how will I do that?"

Elladan grinned. "Just walk up to the palace looking like that," he said, gesturing at his friend's clothes. "Belegdur will see you and try to chase you down, and you only need to lead him here."

The blond elf made a face at Elladan. While Legolas' appearance was usually immaculate, he had several leaves stuck in his hair and splotches of mud on his clothes from helping Elladan out on his latest Grand Plan. It was nothing terribly untidy, but even a single spot could be enough to throw Belegdur into a fit.

After the Great Shoe Caper, Belegdur had been even more difficult to live with than usual. This might have been partly due to the fact that the only pair of shoes he had left were a size too small and he had only meant to wear them for a few hours until he changed for dinner. Belegdur was usually grumpy...but a grumpy Belegdur in too-small shoes stomping around the palace checking everyone's rooms for traces of molasses or his missing shoes was a bit too much to handle.

Of course, in Belegdur's mind, the only possible elf who could have come up with a prank like this was Legolas. This, of course, was due to the time Legolas spent in Rivendell. Elladan was amused that Belegdur never blamed the twins or Estel for the pranks...one would assume that if Legolas was an "uncouth troublemaker" (in Belegdur's words) because of his close friendship then Elladan and Elrohir would be more so. Yet the prince had never suspected Elladan or Elrohir, or even Estel for the pranks (Elrohir had always said that the alliteration must have thrown Belegdur off).

So Elladan had brought Legolas in on this last Plan, figuring that if the younger elf was going to get blamed for it anyway he might as well be responsible. The two of them had dug a pit and filled it with mud and all other kinds of slime from the pond, and were now covering it with leaves to camouflage it. Belegdur would be lured into the pit, where he'd be covered in mud and slime and forced to walk back to the palace, under the eyes of all the elves gathered, in an absolutely filthy state.

Elladan stepped back to survey their work with a broad smile. "It's perfect," he said with a grin.

"Perfect?" Legolas raised an eyebrow in an uncanny imitation of his father. "It's a bit obvious."

The older elf waved away the archer's criticism. True, the circle of leaves did look a bit out of place, and anyone who had an ounce of tracking skill could see the footprints trekking to and from the nearby pond. But Elladan didn't mind that, and he assumed that Belegdur wouldn't be paying attention at all. "It's not as if he'll be expecting a trap," Elladan reasoned.

Legolas sighed, and Elladan could practically see his friend wondering how he'd gotten dragged into this. "All right," he finally assented. "I'll lure him out here."

"Great!" Elladan snickered—actually, it was more of a giggle but Elladan would never admit that he had the tendency to giggle. "I'll wait up in this tree," he added, springing up into a nearby tree.

The prince shook his head, muttering some wondering under his breath about how Elladan had dragged him into this, and took off toward the palace.

Elladan leaned back with a sigh. He should have thought of this days ago. His plans seemed to be going much more smoothly now that he had help. First Elrohir and Estel and now Legolas...maybe someday he could actually succeed in one of his Plans.

He cast a glance back down at the hidden pit, frowning when he realized Legolas was absolutely right about the pit's appearance. He jumped out of the tree and scattered some more leaves, nearly covering the entire floor of clearing. Satisfied that the pit was hidden, even to his own eyes, he climbed back up into the tree to wait for Belegdur.

He could hear yelling and someone running his direction, and could only assume that Legolas had succeeded in luring Belegdur out of the palace.

Elladan clapped a hand over his mouth to hold back a laugh. Belegdur was chasing Legolas, shouting something about coming up to the palace in front of all of Thranduil's advisors in such a disreputable state. Elladan couldn't keep a grin from spreading across his face as the brothers approached the clearing.

Suddenly, Elladan realized a fatal flaw in his plan.

Legolas didn't know he had re-camouflaged the pit.

The twin started to jump out of the tree to warn his friend but it was too late. Legolas stepped too far, and with a yelp sunk under the pile of leaves and deep into the pit of muck.

As shocked as Elladan was, the next events shocked him even more.

Belegdur stood stock-still for a moment, staring at the place where his younger brother had disappeared.

"LEGOLAS!" Belegdur shouted, running toward the blond head that was barely keeping above the muck.

The older prince threw himself down on the ground, stretching his arms out to the younger. "Take my hand," he called.

Elladan leapt out of the tree and ran forward to help. "Belegdur?" he called.

"Stay back!" the older prince snapped, trying to grip his brother's wrists. "The ground may be unstable."

The dark-haired elf could only stare in awe as Belegdur finally got a good hold on Legolas and slowly pulled him out of the pit, getting himself covered in muck as he did so.

"Are you all right?" Belegdur asked in concern, not pausing to wipe the mud off of his own face.

Legolas nodded, spluttering a bit as he spat muck out of his mouth.

"Let's get back to the palace," Belegdur said, standing up and helping Legolas to his feet, gently supporting his brother as they hobbled out of the clearing. "Don't worry, Legolas," the prince added, gritting his teeth. "Once I find out who left that pit there they will pay...oh yes, they will pay."

Elladan shook his head, watching the mud-spattered pair make their way back to the palace.

In all his years, he'd never seen anything as amazing as the immaculate Belegdur risking his cleanliness to save Legolas from a pit of muck.

_

* * *

Reviews? Flames? Tar and Feathers? _


	7. Belegdur Strikes Back?

Episode VII: Belegdur Strikes Back?

Elladan glanced sharply around the hall, breathing a sigh of relief as he saw no one.

The last few hours had been utter torment. Legolas had told Belegdur that Elladan was behind all of the pranks, from the failed tar-and-feathering to the pit of muck. As a result, Belegdur had enlisted help in getting his own revenge on Elladan.

Not only had he drafted Legolas, but Elrohir and Estel were in on the plans as well.

Elladan was no longer safe wherever he went in the palace.

He had woken up this morning to discover that Elrohir had drugged him the night before, and then dragged or carried him outside and tied him to a tree. Thankfully, one of the guards came by to loose him (after Elladan let out a rather blood-curdling scream), and he was able to sneak back into the palace to bathe before breakfast.

Of course, that was when he discovered that Estel had put mud in all the shampoo bottles.

He'd had to trek through the palace absolutely drenched in mud to borrow some shampoo from one of Legolas' sisters (unfortunately it had a rather strong floral scent), and to top it all off he was late for breakfast.

Which didn't really matter, since someone had put salt in his oatmeal. And his tea. And put sugar in his eggs.

Needless to say, Elladan hadn't eaten much at breakfast.

He managed to avoid any more pranks that morning by hiding in the stables, convinced that his horse would protect him.

Of course, his horse had never been much of a conversationalist, and Elladan had been ducking back into a pile of hay every time he heard footsteps approaching.

Lunch was a different matter, as none of the others dared prank him at that meal because they were eating in the formal dining hall. It seemed, however, that someone had told King Thranduil that Elladan was behind the "attacks" on Belegdur, and he had spent the entire meal quailing under the king's sapphire glare.

Needless to say, Elladan hadn't eaten much at lunch, either.

After lunch, he sneaked back to his room to discover that Elrohir and Estel (probably) had taken the clothes he'd brought and tied them in knots. He managed to undo the knots, only to discover that that left horrible wrinkles in all of his clothing.

When taking his clothing down to the laundress to see if she could get the wrinkles out, Legolas had "accidentally" run into him while carry a rather large glass of wine. Elladan had become drenched in the wine, and now the only non-wrinkled pair of clothes he had were wine-stained and sticky.

So he'd borrowed some of Elrohir's...only to discover that Elrohir had hidden all of his clothes and all that were left were Estel's. And even though Estel was still a growing boy, his clothes were too small for Elladan.

And so Elladan was sneaking around corners, trying to get back to the laundress to get something to wear. Even if she hadn't managed to do anything with the wrinkles in his clothes, wrinkled clothes were still better than wine-stained ones.

"Elladan?"

The dark-haired elf whirled around, one hand flying to his heart as his arch-nemesis, Belegdur suddenly appeared behind him.

"Do you need something to wear?"

Elladan stared. "I don't know," he said suspiciously.

"I just figured that, since we're the same size, you could borrow something of mine," the prince offered, holding out a tunic.

Elladan stared at it, as though afraid it would somehow turn into a spider. "Why?"

Belegdur grinned evilly. "Because if you don't I will haunt you for the rest of your days. Imagine, years from now I'll still be reminding you of the time your clothes were filthy and you had nothing else to wear."

To Elladan's surprise, Belegdur suddenly threw his head back and started laughing maniacally.

The dark-haired elf took a step back, and backed right into the wall.

"Oh, Elladan," Belegdur laughed. "You're not the only one who seeks vengeance."

A bucket of cold water was dumped over Elladan's head, and he shrieked, whirling around to see a grinning Legolas behind him.

"You should have known we'd have our revenge on you," the younger prince said with a snicker.

"But you were helping me," Elladan protested. "You were helping me prank Belegdur!"

"Helping you?" Legolas laughed, going to stand next to Belegdur and smiling as his brother put an arm around him. "Why would I want to prank Belegdur? He's the best brother in all of Middle-Earth."

Elladan stared. It was impossible. It couldn't be.

"NOOOO!"

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

"Elladan!"

Elladan jerked sideways sharply, panting for breath as his brother woke him up. "E-Elrohir?" he stammered.

"What happened? What's wrong?" Elrohir asked in concern. "You were tossing and turning, and then you just started yelling 'no'."

The older twin blinked. "I yelled 'no'?"

"Actually, it was more like 'NOOOO!'" Estel piped in.

Elrohir shushed him, turning concerned eyes back on his twin. "Did you have a nightmare?" he asked, his brow furrowing in concern.

"Yes...no...sort of. Where's Legolas?"

His brothers glanced at each other in concern. "He's still with the healers," Elrohir explained. "Belegdur insisted he stay there overnight, just in case there was something foul in that muck he fell in."

"Belegdur?" Elladan asked in surprise.

"Aye, he was very concerned. This must have been one of his good days."

Elladan shook his head, swinging his legs over the side of the bed to sit up. "Did...did Legolas say what happened?"

Elrohir's concerned frown deepened. "Only that he fell into some sort of sinkhole and Belegdur pulled him out. Why?"

The older twin breathed a huge sigh of relief. So Legolas hadn't really told Belegdur what happened. "No reason," he said calmly. "Just wondering."

Throwing a slight grin at his brother, Elladan lay back down to sleep.

It was just a dream, he told himself. That could never happen—Legolas, Elrohir, and Estel would never team up with Belegdur against him.

Would they?

_

* * *

Reviews? Flames? Tar and Feathers? _


	8. Special Edition: Shorts

_AN: This episode doesn't fit sequentially with the others. It's a collection of shorter stories, just written for fun. I was saving this for a later post, but I'm posting it now instead because I'm putting this story on hiatus for a while until I can either a) come up with some really good pranks that I just can't avoid posting here (if you have any suggestions I'd love to hear them), and b) I have another funny story planned, and I want to focus on it for a while. I will return with more of these eventually, but I'd rather take an official break now before I get burnt out on writing them._

* * *

Episode VIII: Special Edition: Shorts

**"A Watched Pot"**

AN: Inspired by a review from "memyselfandi", who wanted to hit Belegdur over the head with Sam's frying pan.

The kitchen in Mirkwood was rather large...which made sense considering the number of elves who lived in the palace. Elladan was very pleased with the size of the kitchen, it made it very easy to find what he wanted.

He soon selected it; a pot large enough to fit Belegdur's overly-large head, and grabbed a wooden spoon to go with it.

Elladan didn't have much time. The delegates from Lothlorien were almost ready to convene the treaty discussion. For a moment, Elladan paused to wonder just how many treaties Mirkwood had with the various elven kingdoms of Middle-Earth. It seemed Thranduil was always holding some treaty negotiation...or maybe he only pretended to so he wouldn't have to deal with the sons of Elrond when they came to visit. Elladan shrugged. It didn't matter to him.

He didn't even bother to hide this time, merely waiting in the hall until Belegdur came down, notes in hand, not paying any attention.

With a war cry, Elladan leapt forward and shoved the pot over Belegdur's head, spun him around in a circle eight times, and hit the top of the pot two or three times with the wooden spoon. With another wordless shriek he yanked the pot off Belegdur's head and took off down the hallway, ducking around a corner to get out of sight before the prince's wits returned.

He glanced back around, stuffing a fist in his mouth to stifle his merriment.

Belegdur shook his head, trying to dispel the ringing in his ears, straightened the papers in his arms and walked forward—straight into the wall.

Elladan scuttled back down the hall, snickering all the way.

Some plans were just too easy.

* * *

"**Belegdur Meets the Goblin King"**

_AN: _Labyrinth_ is the property of Jim Henson_

"If you don't back off I'll say the words!"

Belegdur stared at Elladan for a moment. "What are you talking about?" he demanded. "What words?"

Elladan glared at the blond elf. "You know...the words."

The prince sighed. "All I was saying is that he shouldn't wear the boots he trains in to dinner, it makes him appear too casual."

"You didn't have to call him a miserable excuse for a prince!" Elladan retorted.

"What would you know anyway?" Belegdur snarled. "You're just a miserable excuse for an _elf_, you and all your kind. When I think of the way you've corrupted my brother..."

"I'LL SAY THE WORDS!" Elladan shouted.

"Fine!" Belegdur shouted back. "Say them!"

Elladan glowered. "Goblin King! Goblin King! Wherever you may be! Come and take this miserable elf far away from me!" he shouted.

The two elves waited, but nothing happened. "Say the words," Belegdur scoffed. "What's next, are you going to go tell my father that I'm being mean to Legolas?"

The dark-haired elf just glared at the prince as he strode off down the hall. "I wish the goblins would take you away," he muttered. "Right now."

With a sudden poof Belegdur disappeared. Elladan stared for a moment, then started cackling maniacally. "It worked! Itworkeditworkeditworkeditworked!"

He laughed again, and proceeded to dance down the hall singing some inane song about dancing and voodoo under his breath, stopping to tell every elf he met that his plan had worked.

This lasted for about ten minutes, before there was another poof and a disoriented-looking Belegdur along with a tall...man?...who bore a disgruntled expression. "Is this your elf?" the man asked coldly.

Elladan stopped short. "N-no," he stammered, suddenly afraid to be face-to-face with Jareth the Goblin King.

"Well, he says he belongs here. Someone wished him to my kingdom, but we couldn't stand him so you can have him back without going through the maze."

Weak-kneed, Elladan collapsed against the wall. "Th-thank you," he finally said.

Jareth disappeared with another poof, and Elladan buried his face in his hands and groaned.

Some plans were just too good to be true.

* * *

"**The Room"**

_AN: Reference to _Fear No Darknes_ in this one, and to the show _Stargate: SG-1

Elladan was grumbling as he stomped down the hall toward his room (that is, the guestroom he and his brothers were sharing). Not only was Belegdur now suspicious that Legolas wasn't behind the "attacks", Elrohir was becoming suspicious that Elladan's "pranks" were actually of a more sinister nature.

The elf snorted. As if there was something sinister about rigging up a few buckets to drop three hundred vicious scorpions on Belegdur's bed while he was sleeping.

While he was stomping and grumbling, he was also trying to conjure a new Plan, one that would be acceptable to Elrohir yet leave Belegdur wondering who could be behind it all. So far he was having no luck.

Tie him to a tree in the forest? Spiders, wargs, or orcs would get him. Pack him in a barrel and send him off to Laketown? They'd send him right back. Lock him in the dungeons? Everyone would think that insane she-elf was back and lock Legolas in some unused wing of the palace with half the royal guard to protect him. Poison the wine? Elladan shook his head. He'd already tried that, and now Belegdur was suspicious enough to have someone else test his wine before he drank it.

He huffed out a sigh, pausing as he realized that he'd accidentally walked past the guest wing into a part of the palace he didn't remember. The only thing he could think of was to put on some horrible mask and jump out at Belegdur from behind every corner he could, in hopes of making the older prince so paranoid that he would never leave his room again.

Decided on his rather flimsy and ridiculous plan, Elladan turned to go back and found that he was lost. Well, the palace was rather large, so it was possible that he'd find a wing he didn't know.

There was a door next to him, and he could hear the babble of voices behind it, so he walked up to it, knocked three times, and pushed it open with a cheery expression on his face in hopes of getting directions from the elves within.

"Excuse me, could you..." the elf's voice trailed off, his eyes widening.

The room was much bigger on the inside than on the outside. It was steely gray, and he suddenly found himself facing about two dozen men (and was that a woman?) dressed in outlandish green-gray clothing, odd packs strapped to several of them and toting things that looked an awful lot like weapons. But the oddity that caught Elladan's eye the most was the large, glowing, vertical puddle in the center of the room.

He yelped, slamming the door shut and flinging himself away, heart pounding. When no one burst through the door to question him, he slowly crept up to it and opened it a crack, then flung it all the way open, his brow creasing in confusion.

It was a small, dusty study with a few odd tomes on the shelves. There was no sign of the outlandishly-dressed humans, the glowing circle thing, and the room was much smaller.

Elladan closed the door again, shaking his head in confusion. He thought about opening it to see if the other room was back, but decided against it and took a nearby chair to wedge the door closed.

Some things were better left unknown.

_

* * *

Reviews? Flames? Tar and Feathers?_


End file.
